Twas the Night
by MissScorp
Summary: 'Twas the Night before Christmas, and a madman is loose in the city of Gotham. Styled upon Gotham by Gaslight and uses the Sherlock 221B writing prompt. T for mild violence.
1. One

It was the night before Christmas, and the streets were all vacant, for even the drug dealers and pimps found it to cold to worry about payment.

The rest of the bad guys were all snug in their beds, thoughts of guns, and anarchy dancing in their heads.

Fluffy stockings had been hung from chimneys with caution and care, all with the hope jolly Saint Nick would visit there.

Everything in Gotham was peaceful and quiet, except in one two-story house, where a fella named Cratchit had been murdered by some louse.

The coppers suspected how Cratchit died, but still found themselves perplexed by the icicle shaped ornament stuck in his side.

"What do you make of this?" a copper named Jim asked the figure beside him. "The murderer didn't do this on a whim."

"This wasn't a crime of passion." There was a sigh. "The only thing I'm left wondering is why."

"He's been killed the same way as that stripper. Could be the work of the man calling himself the Gotham City Ripper."

"It's possible it's his handiwork," the dour figure agreed. "However, that ornament is a bit of an unusual quirk."

"Hey, Jim," a copper named Bullock called. "We were searching through the surrounding houses and flats, and found one with a message that said, Merry Christmas, Bats!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!

So, the idea of this came from a from a fellow writer, zanganito (go read his Batman or Sherlock pieces!) who challenged me to write a Batman/Sherlock (ACD) crossover. This is what I came up with in response. There are four pieces in all and all are written as 221B drabbles in the theme of ' _Twas The Night before Christmas_ by Clement Clarke Moore.


	2. Two

"Scrooge's throat's been slashed, and his skin is stained an eerie shade of white," the copper murmured. "And that grin of his is giving me a fright."

"The man behind this is a truly nefarious foe," came from the Bats. "He likely surprised poor Scrooge by striking him from behind with a crushing blow."

They moved to the side so the coroner and his flunkies could set to work, neither man noticing how one fella sent them a devious little smirk.

Nope, so engrossed were they in their game of deduction, they failed to observe the social niceties and make a proper introduction.

Just as well, for the man, we'll call him Jack, didn't have the time to stand around and yak.

"I want to send a wire to a friend of mine." Batman turned to face the copper. "He can help us catch this man good and proper."

 _Ha_ , thought Jack as he listened to this drivel. _And here I thought that ole Batsy would keep things civil_!

"Who is this man you want to call?" The copper asked as he struck a match. "And do you think he will find this case too small?"

"His name is Holmes, and he hails from across the sea." His cape fluttered about him. "He's in Gotham to purchase a particular honey bee."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!

I'd like to give a special thank you to ReadingBlueWolf and spnfandon8 for their lovely reviews! They certainly brightened my day and made me feel less nuts for writing this ;)


	3. Three

Ten more murders soon accompanied the other two. Batman and Holmes started to fear this Ripper was far from through.

Each poor person was found beneath a tree, all naked save one, and swimming in pools of blood as thick as the Black Sea.

"Are you sure you have no suspects in mind?" Doctor Watson asked. "Because a fiend like this shouldn't be this impossible to find."

"Ah, my dear, Watson, what you fail to see," said the man called Holmes. "Is this man is never quite where we presume he will be."

"How do you expect to catch a man as unsavory as this?" The good doctor frowned. "Does something not seem amiss?"

"We must examine the clues he's left laying around." Holmes puffed on his pipe. "If you but look, why, you'll see they abound."

"I'm afraid I just do not see what clues there are." Watson heaved a sigh. "This situation has truly become quite bizarre."

"Twelve bodies, all killed in a fashion similar to the first, but with each murder thereafter growing increasingly worst."

"The first was a stripper with her throat slashed," murmured ole Batsy. "But the last woman also had all ten fingers and her nose smashed."

"Why, Holmes," Watson suddenly cried. "It's the Twelve Days of Christmas, with the twelfth victim an intended bride!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!


	4. Four

Watson got a pat on the back for figuring out his final victim was his intended bride, thus allowing Holmes to deduce he killed her because lying was the one thing he could not abide.

Jack knew his holiday fun had turned into folly, for neither Batsy or Holmes were the types to waste time with being holly and jolly.

No, once they figured out his last victim was Harley, they sent coppers to his house with demands for parley.

Of course, he refused, what fun was there in sitting and talking, when blowing up all them coppers was far more shocking?

His high-pitched laughed followed them as they dashed across rooftops. He even taunted them as they slid across streets covered in ice, "Catch me if you can in this winter's paradise!"

Ah, but he forgot dear ole Watson, who shot him in the knee, and gee golly, did it hurt worse than being stung by a bee!

Jack went down, without making more than a sound, and took a few moments to regain his senses. He couldn't help but giggle as coppers swooped down, lamenting his long list of offenses.

After he was loaded in the back of the wagon, he looked at Holmes and the Dark Knight, "Merry Christmas to all, I hope it was merry and bright!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!

This is the end of this particular Christmas tale. To those who have read along, I thank you. I hope you got some amusement from this piece. To those who have reviewed, your support has meant the world. I hope you all have a wonderful 2019!


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